


The Distortion's Proxy

by em0rion



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, this is entirely self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em0rion/pseuds/em0rion
Summary: Statement of (Y/N) (L/N), regarding an encounter with the entity known as "Michael." Statement taken November 16th, 2016.Statement begins.
Relationships: Michael Shelley/Reader, Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives)/Reader
Kudos: 49





	The Distortion's Proxy

**Author's Note:**

> this was intended as a male reader but I realised it was kind of ambiguous so... here yall go. I wrote this while I was supposed to be sleeping
> 
> TW: mentions of paranoia, delusions, psychosis, and lack of touch with reality

* * *

*Click*

[JON]

Statement of (Y/N) (L/N), regarding…?

[(Y/N)]

*clearing throat* uhm…. Let's go with an encounter with the thing known as "Michael". 

[JON]

Right. Statement of (Y/N) (L/N), regarding an encounter with the entity known as "Michael". Statement taken direct from subject, November 16th, 2016.

Statement begins.

[(Y/N)]

I've never been the most…. In touch with reality. When I was young I would spend hours upon hours stuck in my own head, dreaming up fantasy scenarios to fill the seemingly never-ending hours. It got to the point that when I was a teenager it felt like nothing was real. 

I know teenagers overreact and they're at the peak of their lives, but I struggled so hard to connect to anything. I would touch things and I couldn't feel them beneath me, I couldn't feel _anything_. My parents took me to get checked out but the doctors just gave me antidepressants and said if I didn't get better I'd have to stay in a psych ward for an indefinite amount of time.

I did get better. At least, for a while. Graduated high school, got my degree in the fine arts. I was doing fine for myself! ….for a bit.

Then, one day a door appeared in my apartment. It wasn't there before, I was sure of it. I would have known if someone had randomly installed a new door in my apartment. *laugh* I thought I was going crazy! I didn't want to touch it. I left it alone for a month, maybe two. But _it didn't leave._

Finally, one day I got so fed up I grabbed that door and I yanked it open. Inside was a hallway-like something you'd see in a shitty horror movie. Everything about it seemed off, like it was a dream. I couldn't believe my eyes- I mean, it was impossible for there to be a hallway there! That door should have led out to a three story drop, but there it was. Shitty bowling alley carpet and all.

I closed the door, leaning against it like I was trapping something inside. I slumped to a sitting position and brought my knees to my chest. God, I must have been like that for at least an hour. When I finally gained the courage to look back at the door, it was gone. I was terrified.

I went back to the doctors and got my antipsychotics upped. I thought it would help, it didn't. The door came and went as it pleased, almost taunting me.

One day, after trying and failing to sleep for the second day in a row, I saw the door next to my bedroom door. It called me- I heard it. I shambled to the door like- like a fuckin zombie.

I opened it. It was the same hallway. The impossible hallway with the wrong walls and the too bright carpet. 

This time, I stepped through. It felt weird, I could feel a static creeping in through the bottom of my feet, bypassing my socks and crawling up my spine. 

I walked through the hallway for a bit. There was no end in sight. I could have sworn I was in there for days, maybe weeks. Just. Walking. I didn't get tired, I wasn't hungry so maybe it was only a couple hours. All I know was that I turned a corner and I saw _him_.

*shaky sigh* He was… beau- big. I mean, gigantic. Must have been 6'6 or around there. He was...weird. Like he was a blurry picture of a person out of the corner of your eye- distorted and warped but not unrecognizable as a person. His hair was long and curly- or maybe just glitched. That's a good word for him. He was a glitch, constantly shifting in some way. He was abnormally long, like someone saw a human and tried to recreate it but forgot about equal proportions.

He smiled at me, a deeply disturbing smile. I should have been terrified-ran away, even. Instead I stood there, and I smiled back. 

He clearly wasn't expecting that. I saw it in his eyes- or I would have if they weren't always shifting. Like a whirlpool that wanted to draw you ever so deeper in.

He told me his name was Michael, and I told him mine. He laughed- it was sort of harmonious in a way, a bubbling cacophony of non-existence- and he told me that he already knew that. I asked him how, but he didn't answer.

I realized that I couldn't look at him. I mean- I obviously _could_. But the longer I looked at him the less he seemed to make sense.

When I asked him where I was, he laughed again. He said I was with him. I said I knew that, but _where_ were we?

He walked off, tall legs seemingly growing taller with each step. I followed after. He brought me to a door, leaning on it casually. His too-wide smile was still present as he asked me why I wasn't afraid of him. 

I told him the truth. "You're not real."

He cooked his head and asked, "what makes you say that?"

I laughed then, crossing my arms. "You don't exist. You're just a figment of my imagination, trying to justify my psychotic delusions in my sleep. Any minute now I'll wake up safe and sound in my bed."

He laughed again, and it felt like it went on for hours. He reached a hand towards me, and I flinched as his claws dug into my shoulder and he leaned down to my height.

"I'm inclined to think you're the fake one here."

I… do I have to keep going?

[JON] 

Is this the end of your statement?

[(Y/N)]

No, it's just… the next part is really embarrassing.

[JON]

I assure you, I am not here to judge you.

[(Y/N)]

I- alright. *sounds of shifting in seat* I must have been sleep deprived, or maybe the medicine was having some weird drunk effect on me but… his face was close to mine. I moved in and I kissed him. 

[JON]

Just to get this right… you _kissed_ the... entity?

[(Y/N)]

You said you weren't going to judge!

[JON] 

I'm simply making sure I have all the facts straight for the record. Please continue.

[(Y/N)]

That was how I knew I wasn't dreaming. He was too sharp, I felt it in every fiber of my being. He kissed me back, and I could feel the static- but it also felt warm. Like he was any regular person. He tasted like Van Gogh's "Starry Night" feels.

The kiss didn't last that long, maybe a couple seconds, but it felt forever. When he removed his hand from my shoulder and lips from mine he disappeared. The door he was leaning against was open. I could see my bedroom on the other side, and I stepped back through.

*a long, weighted silence overtakes the two*

[JON] 

Are you finished?

[(Y/N)]

What? No, I'm… sorry, I got too lost in my own head there. I'll continue.

[JON] 

Whenever you're ready. 

[(Y/N)]

I didn't see him again for another month. I think. *small chuckle* I think I scared him away. It wouldn't be the first time a kiss scared a guy away. *another laugh, then an awkward cough* Anyway. When he came back, I was sitting in my living room. He opened the door that wasn't there before, calling my name. 

I, of course, dropped everything and ran to the door. When I got there he was gone. Still, I stepped back into the vaporwave hallway. I was in there for half as long as last time when I came to find Michael staring at a mirror next to a door. He was too tall for it, so he was crouching down. This was the first time I had seen him without that disturbing smile on his face. 

He looked… cute. Like a boy. A boy who was tired of being himself. At that moment, I felt my heart reach out to him, and… I think he did too.

He turned to look at me, tears traveling upwards towards his mop of hair. I reached out for him, and he moved away from my touch. 

He avoided looking at me when he started talking. It was a long and sad story of how he came to be himself. At one point, I sat down with my back on the wall, and he joined me.

[JON]

How he came to be? Can you tell me?

[(Y/N)]

That's not my story to tell, Archivist.

[JON]

Right. Continue, please.

[(Y/N)]

By the end of the story I was close to tears. I moved my hand over to grip his, and this time he didn't move. We sat there for a very long while. If I was capable of doing so, I would have fallen asleep. 

He told me he wanted to kill me. I asked him why he didn't.

"Because you're not afraid of me." 

*a long silence*

[JON]

*clearing his throat* Did you see him again?

[(Y/N)] 

*softly, almost in a trance* Who's to say?

[JON]

...Right. Well, if that's all, I'd like to-

[(Y/N)] 

How well do you know yourself, Archivist? Do you truly see yourself in the mirror each day? Or do you _see_ nothing, like an empty shell.

[JON]

I don't think I know what you're talking about.

[(Y/N)]

*a chair moving, shuffling clothes* I believe that's all the time we have. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

[JON] 

Of course, that's what I'm here for.

[(Y/N)] 

*from a distance, but echoing* If you're even here at all.

*Click*


End file.
